Abruptly, the rector was speaking to Tristan. He barely spared a glance at the man, keeping his gaze fixed curiously on Madeline.
“I do,” Tristan said, his deep baritone ringing out confidently in the quiet church. Everybody, Madeline realized, was leaning forward to listen. She’d forgotten, ever so briefly, that there was an audience at all. For a few moments, it had only been her and the duke.
She cleared her throat, working moisture into her mouth.
“I do,” Madeline managed, her voice a weak little chirp in comparison to Tristan’s.
“It is my great honor,” the rector said, beaming, “to pronounce you husband and wife. May I present Lord and Lady Lovell, the Duke and Duchess of Tolford!”
Applause broke out. Madeline turned mechanically, clutching her bouquet so hard she thought the stems might twist and break.
She barely recognized half of the faces in the audience. There was dear Papa, of course, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. Charlotte sat beside him, whispering comfortingly in his ear. She glanced up, giving Madeline a reassuring smile. Tristan’s mother, Dorothea, sat there too, also dabbing her eyes. She smiled encouragingly at Madeline.
“I think I am expected to at least walk you down the aisle,” Tristan murmured, leaning down to put his lips far too close to her ear. “I promise I won’t compliment you on the way.”
Madeline bit her lip, risking a quick glance up at him. He waswatchingher with an intensity that made her shiver, and so she averted her eyes quickly, holding out her hand. He took it and began to stride confidently down the aisle. She was obliged to scurry beside him.
“Where are we going?” Madeline managed when they were about halfway down the aisle. His fingers were warm and strong, wrapped firmly around hers. It was more reassuring than she would have liked to admit.
“To our carriage, of course,” Tristan responded brusquely. “Which will take us directly back to my house for the wedding breakfast. Will that suit you?”
“I suppose so.”
“Yousupposeso?” he echoed, grinning down at her. “How magnanimous you are.”
“Don’t tease me,” Madeline snapped, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. They exited the church, and, sure enough, a carriage awaited. It was draped in white ribbons and garlands of flowers; the door already held open for them by a man in Lovell livery.
“You are my wife now, my sweet,” Tristan responded with a wry smile, gesturing for her to climb inside. “You are mine to tease forever.”
Madeline was faintly aware that other guests were coming out of the church, watching them with clear interest. To avoid looking odd, she climbed into the carriage at once. Tristan climbed up behind her, the door closed, and they were off. Just like that.
“I amnotyours to tease!” Madeline huffed, trying her best not to sound like a petulant child. “That is not our bargain.”
Tristan flashed her an indulgent smile. “No, I suppose not. You’ll notice that I omitted the customary kiss after our announcement as husband and wife. I thought you would prefer it that way.”
Madeline was momentarily taken aback. Now, why had he done that? Surely not for her benefit. Perhaps hesimply did not want to kiss her? Yes, that was entirely more likely. She said nothing, folding her hands in her lap and directing her gaze out of the window. It would not take them long to travel from the chapel to the wedding breakfast.
“You really do look very beautiful, you know,” Tristan said, breaking the silence. There was something odd in his voice, which seemed almost stripped of its usual teasing.
Madeline swallowed, keeping her eyes on the passing scenery.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Who organized this, Madeline? It’s a triumph!” Charlotte chirped, appearing from the crowd at Madeline’s elbow.
“Oh, there you are, Charlotte,” Madeline responded, giving a faint smile. “When are people going to start leaving?”
“Leaving? It’s a wedding breakfast. We’ve only been here for an hour.”
She gave a faint moan. “Only an hour? You must be joking.”
Charlotte tilted her head, her smile fading. Reaching out, she took Madeline’s arm, towing her out of the crowd to a quiet corner.
“What’s the matter, Madeline?”
Madeline swallowed, trying to find the words to explain. Tristan had, of course, organized the wedding breakfast, and it was as complex and fancy as a ball. The ballroomwasprepared. There were tables and tables andtablesof food, and endless drinks.
Footmen wound their way expertly through the crowds, offering drinks on silver trays. There was a huge cake dominating the sweets table, and the food—well, Madeline had not sampled even a tenth of it. There was enough food to feed ten thousand people; she was sure of it.
